Luckily, M'Adam had not distinguished his ?Ofl's voice among the others. But David Iearcd he had; for on the following morning the little man said to him:
"David, ye'll come hame immediately after school to-day."
"Because I tell ye to, ma lad"; and that was all the reason he would give. Had he told the simple fact that he wanted help to drench a "husking" ewe, things might have gone differently. As it was, David turned away defiantly down the hill.
The afternoon wore on. Schooltime was long over; still there was no David.
The little man waited at the door of the Grange, fuming, hopping from one leg to the other, talking to Red Wull, who lay at his feet, his head on his paws, like a tiger waiting for his prey.
At length he could restrain himself no longer; and started running down the bill, his heart burning with indignation.
"Wait till we lay hands on ye, ma lad," he muttered as he ran. "We'll warm ye, we'll teach ye."
At the edge of the Stony Bottom he, as always, left Red Wull. Crossing it himself, and rounding Langholm How, he espied James Moore, David, and Owd Bob walking away from him and in the direction of Kenmuir. The gray dog and David were playing together. wrestling, racing, and rolling. The boy had never a thought for his father.